


A Change of Fate

by noblenymphadora



Category: The Fall (TV)
Genre: Baking, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cute, F/F, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblenymphadora/pseuds/noblenymphadora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stella and Reed spending Christmas together this year goes without saying, but Stella isn't used to spending her Christmas Eve as part of a family but soon comes to understand that she could want nothing else right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change of Fate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andsoiaccidentally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andsoiaccidentally/gifts).



> I wrote this as a fic exchange for Christmas because we are both absolute suckers for domestic Stella and Reed.   
> I wrote this set a year after Paul Spector is shot (and dies) so they don't have that case hanging over them making them unnecessarily cagey.  
> Merry Christmas, enjoy!

"Girls, make sure you put your milk and cookies out for Santa now before you go to bed," Reed reminds them for what must be at least the third time in the last two hours.  
"And the carrot for Rudolph!" Reed's youngest exclaims loudly to her sister, who is feigning enthusiasm just for her sake.  
"Of course, we can't forget that." she quickly responds, climbing off the sofa and carefully padding her way over to the kitchen.  
"I'm coming, wait wait wait!" the youngest squeals as she clambers over the arm of the sofa and skips to join her sister, who can be fully relied on to sort out the treats for Santa and his reindeers. Reed glances at Stella, a warm smile gracing her face as she admires the enthusiasm of both of Reed's curly haired menaces. Turning to face each other, Stella flushes a faint rouge as Reed catches her lip between her teeth as she smiles; still her greatest weakness even after all this time. Without a moment of consideration, their lips find each others’ in fleeting harmony, a lingering alcoholic hint detected by both, and then part again. Reed's eyes linger on Stella's lips until the girls come charging back into the room with a cup of milk in the hands of one, and a small Christmas-red plate with several biscuits and a carrot on in the hands of the other. They gently place their goodies for Santa on the fireplace, and swivel on their heels to look directly at their mum.  
"Can Stella read us a bedtime story?" the youngest questions enthusiastically, eyes wide and shining like stars in the sky. Before acknowledging the girls she turns to look straight at Stella, to confirm her willingness in this situation before agreeing to anything. An affirmative nod a slight smile from the blonde gave Reed all she needed.  
"I don't see why not, but only a quick one, it's getting late now and you don't want to be awake when Santa comes!" Reed eventually responds to her girls, ruffling the unruly curls of the youngest.

They excitedly head upstairs and once Stella tucks them both into bed, she switches on their Christmas tree lights and starts to read them The Night Before Christmas. She smiles to herself, still not entirely believing that she isn’t spending her Christmas Eve alone or out at some random bar or another, fraternising with other like-minded, and somewhat lonely souls. She isn’t thinking of work, or her screwed up and entirely turbulent childhood Christmases, all she is thinking about in this moment is how she is lucky enough to be loved by someone like Reed and also how she has somehow been given the privilege of spending time with that woman's wonderful children. 

After the girls are blissfully asleep, Stella walks quietly out from the room and back downstairs, into the living room to find that Reed isn't there anymore. She is about to call out and ask where she is when she hears a clattering coming from the kitchen. Furrowing her brow in confusion, she pointedly walks to the kitchen door, her hips still swaying effortlessly, delicately hugged by the scarlet satin of her dressing gown. Swaying her weight over to one side, she nonchalantly leans against the door frame whilst waiting to see how long it takes the beautiful pathologist to notice she's there. Reed's hair is roughly tied in a sort of bun on top of her head and the sleeves of her self-proclaimed 'ugly Christmas jumper' are rolled up above her elbows. She's baking. Stella can't resist laughing a breathy laugh at the absurdity of the situation she was observing. It is by no means rare for Reed to be baking but generally she sticks to the waking hours of the world; unless it's been a particularly stressful time, during which she just bakes at all hours of the day because it's a productive way to spend stress-riddled hours when Stella is either working or asleep. The dark haired woman looks up from her mixing bowl now and notices Stella propping up her kitchen wall. A fleeting moment of embarrassment graces her face, a faint flush filling her cheeks but promptly dissipating once she realises that there's absolutely no sensible reasoning to feel embarrassed.  
"It's nearly 10pm, shouldn't we be heading to bed soon?" Stella tentatively asks, Reed cannot decide whether she hears a suggestive tone to Stella's question or if it's just her own wishful thinking.  
"Absolutely not, this is far more important, and better in any case." Reed replies playfully, grinning like a child towards the blonde, and beckoning her into the room. Stella never thought she'd find herself making gingerbread at this time of night on Christmas Eve, yet here they are. She is still smirking intermittently, in disbelief that she's actually here doing this, it's such a wholly alien feeling to the blonde that she can't just let it go.  
"Would you like a hand with that?" Stella nearly splutters, her words and a laugh tumbling from her mouth all at once, upon looking at the other woman trying to free her hands from the sticky biscuit dough. An assenting nod was Stella's cue and she finds herself in an even more laughable situation now, it looks like an unintentional baking reenactment of the pottery scene from Ghost. Stella is standing vaguely behind Reed trying to get the dough off her fingers, without really concentrating on that in the slightest.  
"This is a mess!" Reed laughs whilst almost wincing at her own misfortune.  
"It's really not so bad," Stella smiles menacingly, now having to free her own fingers from the grip of the stickiest dough she had ever seen. There's definitely some element of suggestiveness, Reed is sure of it. The feeling in the pit of her stomach is sure of it too.

Once the assortment of festive shaped biscuits are in the oven and the timer is set, Reed finally allows herself to turn her attention wholly to Stella, leaning into her against the worktop so that their hips almost press together.  
"How have you enjoyed your Christmas Eve?" she half whispers, no need for volume because they're so close. Her hands are covered in flour and she wipes a little on Stella's cheek with a grin.   
"It's wonderful" she responds, her voice catching in her throat as she does so due to Reed's touch against her cheek, "unlike this jumper" she finishes, plucking at Reed's jumper playfully, in an attempt to avoid the emotion rising to the surface now.  
"Only because you know full well that you wouldn't be able to pull it off,” Reed confidently implores.  
"Well, that depends what you mean by pulling it off?” Stella teases, as she wraps her hands around Reed's waist, underneath her jumper. Feeling her fingertips brush against the the warm skin of the woman in front of her, she closes her eyes for a moment in blissful contentment.  
Reed fidgets slightly, catching her lip between her teeth as she smiles at Stella, her breathing laboured from the sensitivity of the blonde's touch.  
“Do you mean like this?” Stella questions, her voice so lust-laden that Reed almost goes weak at the knees. The blonde is tugging Reed’s jumper over her head, with what can only really be described as utter disregard for anything except the woman in front of her. It looks like teenagers undressing each other for the first time, messy and overwhelming, a disgraceful need being shown by both of them. Reed is standing in her kitchen wearing nothing but her bra on the top half of her, a few seconds pass until Reed just can't keep it together anymore and bursts out laughing. Stella looks on at the pathologist with awe at how ethereal she looks in this moment.  
Stella leans into Reed almost automatically, kissing messily like teenagers and Reed running her fingers through Stella’s golden hair. Suddenly, as the two of them get lost in each other, the timer goes off to signify that the gingerbread is cooked.   
“Fucking hell!” Stella exclaims, pulling away from Reed with surprise.  
“Well, that was… startling.” Reed laughs as she turns around to take the biscuits out of the oven. Stella can't resist the opportunity to torment her lover even further and as soon as she's put the tray down on the worktop, Stella kisses the nape of her neck and she leans into her and sighs.   
“Do you think it might be time to head to bed now?” Reed confidently whispers to Stella, mirroring the suggestiveness in the blonde’s voice from earlier.  
“I thought you'd never ask!” Stella exclaims rather too desperately, picking up Reed’s jumper and almost trailing the pathologist out of the kitchen whilst she is still making sure the oven is off and the biscuits are safe. They try and quiet each other as they fall into the bedroom so that the girls don't hear them, laughing with embarrassment at their behaviour. As Reed kisses Stella’s pale skin she repeats her question from earlier in the evening, “How have you enjoyed your Christmas Eve?”  
“Wonderful!” Stella exclaims, unable to find any other words to describe it, with emotion she cannot even pinpoint and an intensity in her eyes that cannot be avoided.   
As the women tumble into the bed together, the pathologist whispers into Stella’s neck with an adoration that shows an absolute gratitude to be spending a second Christmas in the arms of the woman who is now spending this Christmas in her bed, “Merry Christmas, my love.”


End file.
